


Moments

by vulcanplomeeksoup



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Holding Hands, M/M, Motorcycles, Murder Husbands, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Sort Of, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanplomeeksoup/pseuds/vulcanplomeeksoup
Summary: A life is made from moments; Not all of them matter, but some evidently do. Let there be motorcycles and Hannigram fluff. A gift fic to @ eveninginwithyourgirlfriend for the Hannibal Holiday Exchange :D





	Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not familiar with motorcycles but I've consulted with the Google Go d so I hope things are as accurate as they should be. 
> 
> A pitch hit fic to @ eveninginwithyourgirlfriend for the Hannibal Holiday Exchange :D

Will doesn’t fall exactly on the _spectrum_ , but he has a general dislike for change; Routines give his unstable mind a sense of control, and taking control of his own mind is important to Will. Back then, after selling his house in Wolf Trap for a life with Molly and Wally, there was an extremely challenging adjustment period for him to get used to the concept of family; To incorporate new routines into the old ones that he established with the dogs. 

Now having settled in Florence, living in an entire foreign and unfamiliar country with a fake identity alongside one of the FBI most wanted criminals, Will’s first year on the run together with Hannibal has been difficult, and stressful. 

Hannibal, by nature a sadist that he is, still relishes in Will's distress, of course, but his adoration for Will eventually wins over, and he’s been trying to make Will’s life as stress free as possible. Fact is, Hannibal has never treasured someone as much after dear Mischa; Which is the reason why he’s been treating Will like a precious broken teacup that has come back together miraculously in his life. 

His protectiveness over Will is extremely unusual, and Hannibal can’t even totally comprehend it himself. Instead of forcing Will to adapt, or tricking Will into doing something he wants with manipulation, Hannibal chooses to give Will the time and space he needs to get used to his new surroundings; Letting him explore their life together at his own pace. Sometimes, Hannibal helps Will cope by introducing him to new things, one at a time and in the most delightful way possible. 

On the evening of the day his brand new Triumph Thruxton is delivered, Hannibal offers to take Will for a ride. 

Will eyes Hannibal skeptically. “Didn't know you could ride a motorcycle.” He says with his arms crossed over his chest.

Hannibal zips his leather jacket up. “There are plenty of things that you don't know about me still, my dear Will.” 

While checking the bike for the last time, Hannibal continues on lengthly explaining to Will how much he wants to show him another side of Florence. “- And in future, maybe we could travel together to places further out of the city. In Impruneta, perhaps, where I used to hunt.”

 _Impruneta. Hunt._ Image of the slain couple decorated with garlands and flowers in the back of a pickup truck flashes in Will's mind. 

_The Primavera. Il Mostro. Monster of Florence._ Florence was where Hannibal became who he is today; It’s a part in Hannibal’s life that is still largely unknown to Will. In Will’s mind, Hannibal offering to take him see Florence feels like Hannibal is letting him take a glimpse into his past. Hannibal is letting Will see him; He would consider it a rare gift to Will, no doubt; And for Will, he appreciates Hannibal’s gesture of honesty; It feels like a reassurance from Hannibal that they are equals now; And that there is nothing needed to be hidden between them anymore. 

There are things happened in the past that Will wishes so much to undo, to amend, to forgive; Now that he has chosen to stay by Hannibal’s side, he may as well forget what’s been done and cannot be undone; He may try to trust Hannibal a bit more, starts by something small, like riding on a motorcycle behind Hannibal. 

After some hesitation, mainly for safety concerns because Hannibal seems to be ignoring the fact that, technically, both of them are still recovering from their almost fatal injuries, Will takes in a deep breath then gracelessly mounts Hannibal’s bike with his usual clumsiness.

It pulls a low chuckle from Hannibal. He walks up to Will, who is still having difficulty balancing himself in the leather passenger seat. Will regards him with raised eyebrows and a quirk of shy smile; The expression transforms Will’s face into radiant beauty - with a hint of adorableness- in Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal can’t help but reaches out; He touches Will’s face, his knuckles lingering right over the scar on Will’s cheek. 

The gesture of affection is so tender, so soft, so sudden, that a little bit of a blush begins to creep up Will’s neck to his face. It’s intimate. The touch feels intimate, and it’s the kind of the physical contact that Will has been missing, craving from Hannibal - And perhaps Hannibal has been craving it too; But if he does, he’s never let his desire show. 

Truth is, Hannibal has been confusingly courteous ever since they’ve survived the fall. Will can sense that Hannibal has been consciously refraining himself from touching him unless it’s absolutely necessary. 

He does give Will longing stares from time to time though; Stares that he thinks Will hasn’t noticed, but Will has noticed, of course. And right now, Hannibal is giving Will that _stare_ again. 

Will sees the fragile emotion behind Hannibal’s intense gaze that goes as quickly as it comes; Emotion that are held for Will and Will only; Emotions that almost akin _fear_. It’s as if Hannibal is _scared_ , scared that Will is not real, that his life with Will is merely a fabrication of his own mind locked up in the BSHCI, scared that Will would leave him if he breaks him again and this time, his teacup is not going to come back together ever again…An unknown feeling hits Will as his mind unconsciously emphasises with Hannibal’s, rendering him as speechless and as puzzled as the man before him. 

Both of them are frozen on the spot by the simple, impulsive touch; There is an uncomfortably long silence in the air between them; The moment comes and goes; Then finally Hannibal blinks, straightening himself as if waking from a trance. 

Slowly, Hannibal places a black helmet on Will’s head; His fingers methodologically adjusting the chinstrap for Will as if the gentle moment just now didn’t happen; His downcast eyes avoiding Will’s like he’s embarrassed by the emotions he has expressed. 

Satisfied that his mongoose is safe and all set to go, Hannibal straps on his own helmet and climbs onto the bike in front of Will; Their bodies pressing unavoidably close. It feels strange, the intimacy of it all. Will distracts himself by awkwardly searching for something to hold on to the bike in the passenger seat. 

It’s when Hannibal's gloved hand catches one of Will’s wrists mid-air, then places it gently over his own waist. 

Anxious, Will put both of his hands stiffly on each side of Hannibal’s waist, his palm barely touching the surface of Hannibal’s leather jacket. 

"I have a tendency to drive fast, please hold on tightly.” Hannibal says with a hint of amusement in his voice; He is delighted to feel Will’s hold on him tenses then tightens.

Will tries to keep his grip on Hannibal lose, but when the engine starts and the bike eventually speeds up, he instinctually tightens around Hannibal and he seems to feel amusement rumble through the man with his cheek almost pressed to Hannibal’s back; His arms looping around Hannibal’s soft middle and one of his palms brushes over where Hannibal’s gun shot wound used to be with a pleasant pressure that Hannibal has long been secretly craving. 

Hannibal’s motorcycle swerves and cuts between cars like a knife through butter. The world beyond zooming by, reflected in the black glass on the reflective visor of Hannibal and Will’s helmet. As the world blurring by into an impressionist painting, Will feels a strange sense of serenity as if time has stopped entirely for them; He finds the speed and chilling wind oddly pleasing; When their test ride ends, there is an unexpected want in Will to race down winding roads in the dark alongside Hannibal on his own bike. 

The unexpected want has urged Will to do something unexpected. They are equals now, and Will wants to understand Hannibal by becoming him little by little. 

— 

It’s three days before Christmas when Will gets his licence, and it’s the day he returns to find a brand new Bonneville waiting for him in the garage. There is a hand-written note on it from Hannibal expressing how proud he is of Will. 

Will extends a hand and touches his own bike for the first time, feeling a wave of emotions washing over him. Perhaps when they get a dog, he can add a pet carrier to it, Will muses to himself. 

Hannibal appears quietly from the dark of the shadow, his eyes gleaming and he is wearing a small grin that indicates how pleased he is. He presents Will with a brand new matte black helmet, adorned with a tasteful blood red bow on top. It’s quite a hilarious sight. Will tries hard not to giggle but he fails. 

“Merry Christmas, my dear Will.” Hannibal says. 

Will gives Hannibal a minute nod, sincerely grateful. “Um. Wow. Ugh…Merry Christmas…” He mutters, not sure what to say in return. 

“Would you like to try it out?” 

“Now?” 

“Yes.”

As Hannibal and Will ride side by side for the first time racing down a lone country road at dusk like a pair of nocturnal predators, Will knows Hannibal is as ecstatic as he is. 

Hannibal rarely takes pictures; But on their way back home when they pull over shortly for a break to admire the view of the setting sun at the horizon; Out of the blue, Hannibal takes off the gloves and holds up his phone; A few seconds of experimenting with the camera angle, he then suddenly loops his arm ever so gently around Will’s shoulder and pulls his beloved into the frame as he takes a snap.

Will, utterly startled, gives the camera an awkward smile right when the picture is taken. He feels Hannibal’s nervous fingers clinging softly on the fabric of his jacket, reluctant to let go when the moment passes. 

The picture is in no way artful by Hannibal’s standard, of course; Just one with two awkward faces squeezing into the frame smiling awkwardly at the camera under blurry warm lights reflected from the surface of a river in the background; But both Hannibal and Will know they will treasure the image dearly in their hearts. 

A life is made from moments; Not all of them matter, but some evidently do. A moment is unyielding. Hannibal wonders what moment Will and him are in right now.

Will cast his eyes towards the distant red sky; A puff of steam escapes his mouth when he calls quietly, “Hannibal?” 

“Yes, Will?”

Air rushes from his lungs as Will exhales a ragged breath; He steps before Hannibal, way closer than necessary. “Don’t move.” 

“Will?…” Hannibal whispers, his voice husky, puzzled. A gloved hand comes up to clasp the back of his neck and Hannibal’s whisper trails off. 

Will’s lips slowly, softly settles against one corner of his; not exactly a kiss, not exactly not a kiss. Time seems to have stopped like a teacup breaking mid-air paused in motion. 

It’s in flash a moment so brief but so real that Hannibal would lock every detail of it forever in the deepest part of his memory palace. Forever. 

When time flows again and the moment passes, Hannibal narrows his eyes and his pale eyelashes flutter; His lips are pulled back, parted in pleasant surprise, revealing just the tips of his canine teeth. 

Looking as miserably flustered, Will hisses a laugh at himself; He licks his lips wearing a deep frown. “Look. I’ll probably never say this out loud again, I, um…” He looks away and around the distant landscape. “Thank you, Hannibal, for everything. For, um, the bike.” Another nervous intake of breath, then Will continues, unhurried, considering his words. “For pulling me out of the sea. For saving me…in general. For setting up a life here…with me. I, um, I appreciate all of it, I really do. I, ugh, I just want you to know that because I—I don’t want to lie to you, not anymore.”

“Then I believe I should return the courtesy,” Hannibal tilts his head, a soft gleam in his eyes, “by letting you know that I—“ One of his hands comes up to cup Will’s face just as before, just as he always does, his fingers caressing the shell of Will’s ears like revisiting an old addiction. His lips hovering over Will’s as he whispers, “I enjoy your company, my dear Will. You and I went so long in our friendship without ever touching, yet I always felt attuned to you. I hope you’d enjoy mine.”

Will blinks dreamily as their foreheads touch. The last time Hannibal’s lips were this close, they were standing at the edge of the cliff, both drenched in blood; But there is no blood on them now, and their mouths at last meet in a long anticipated brief kiss that goes straight to their hearts. They close their eyes; Lips part simultaneously while the tips of their tongues teasing each other delicately, just enough to give each other a taste as they pull away again.

Will feels the back of Hannibal’s hand nudging his. Hannibal’s fingers must be icy cold by now having exposed so long in the wind, so Will takes the hand in his; It was in that moment when their fingers lace together so perfectly. Inseparable. 

They hold each other close for a long moment, then separate just enough to look at each other. Will’s eyes wanders at nothing when he suddenly states, “It’s almost Christmas.” 

“So it is.” 

“What are we having for dinner?” 

“Our Christmas dinner?” Hannibal answers vaguely, “It depends on the ingredients we can get." 

Feeling Hannibal’s eyes on him, Will turns to meet his hopeful gaze. “Perhaps we can - Perhaps we can, um, _procure_ the ingredients, together.” Will suggests, his words heavy with meaning.

One corner of Hannibal’s mouth curves upwards into a half grin. Will mirrors his smile without really intending to. 

 

-THE END-

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr too :D [@vulcanplomeeksoup](http://vulcanplomeeksoup.tumblr.com) Come chat with me about Hannibal !


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